Page 55 of Turn Me On

Zane:Dude! You should have tried the first one.

Maddox:Trust me, I know. But you had a great game tonight. Nice job at the plate. I checked the game recap on the ride back.

Zane:I like it a lot, that you follow my stats. I know it’s your job, but I still like it.

Maddox:It’s my job, but it’s also my pleasure when it comes to you.

Zane:P.S. If you really want to burn off frustration, you can come to my building. Use my gym. It’s open 24-7. I’ll send you the code to get in, and I won’t even hit on you. I swear. I’m about to crash hard anyway.

I smile at the offer.

Maddox:You do crash hard. Thanks for the offer. I’ll probably crash too. Good seeing you today, Zane.

Zane:Great seeing you, Mad.

Maddox:Goodnight.

Zane:Night.

* * *

In the morning, the sign on the gym door mocks me.

Closed for water repair.

I peer through the glass, staring at the empty room, the rows of unused ellipticals, the weight benches without lifters—and the soggy carpet.

Well, Dad, guess you’re getting your wish after all. I’ll go for a run. Annoying, though, because today’s a weights day.

But I have to be flexible when I travel. Besides, I’ll be back in Los Angeles tonight. No biggie to run instead. I cue up a running playlist—a stock market report, some new tunes Bryan sent me, and another gardening podcast—then I flash back to Zane’s offer last night to use his gym. He’s probably not even up. But if he is, he could send me the code. I do hate to miss weights day, after all. That’s the only reason this would be convenient.

Maddox:Hey! If you’re up, can I take you up on the gym offer? If not, no worries. I’ll go for a run. The hotel gym is closed due to a water leak.

I hit send, then head to the lobby, my phone and room key in hand. My cell stays quiet as I walk out of the hotel. It’s silent too when I hit the pavement.

That’s fine. It’s seven-thirty, which is late for me, but early for Zane after a game night. I tune into the market report, catching up on trading as I run down California Street with the early morning fog burning off.

Twenty minutes later, my phone dings.

My heart thunders when I see his name, the four-digit code, and the address. It’s ridiculous to feel this way when I won’t even see the man at the gym, but that’s my life these days. Full of longing and gardening podcasts.

I run over into Hayes Valley, and at Zane’s building, I punch in the code and head to the gym in the basement.

When I reach the glass door and tug it open, my stomach flips.

I’m not alone.

14

THE FLY MACHINE

Zane

The second I got his message, I flew out of bed. I’m such a sucker for sweat.

And shorts.

And, well, Maddox.